A Most Perilous Play
by s. m. rahl
Summary: Continues from the end of HalfBlood Prince. Nymphadora Tonks's twin sister, a skilled actor, is asked by the Order to pose as Bellatrix Lestrange to obtain information for the Order after Snape's defection to the Dark Lord. Will be rated M in later chap


PART ONE: THE METAMORPHMAGI TWINS

Chapter One: The Evening Request

He was seated comfortably in an obscure seat in one of the middle rows, but was close enough to see each line of fury etched in her young face.

"Is he not approved in the height a villain, that hath slandered – scorned – _dishonored_ my kinswoman?" she spat. Her eyes were reddened with recently-shed tears and rage; the muscles of her body strained under the pale skin at the tension of the control it took her not to strike out. "What, bear her in hand until they come to take hands, and then, with public accusation – uncovered slander – unmitigated rancor – oh, God, that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the marketplace!"

Severus watched as her grief and frustration grew to somehow dominate the stage, missing most of her partner's ineffectual responses as her shoulders shook and she tore at her long black hair. She was a Fury, Shakespeare's Beatrice, and – he checked his glossy program – Natalie Radley was portraying her exquisitely.

The Livingston Street Theatre performance of "Much Ado About Nothing" had been mostly satisfactory. Severus noted that, as with many productions of this same play, the actor playing the arrogant Benedick wound up playing second fiddle to a strong actress in the role of Beatrice by the end of the play. Unlike many of her contemporaries who opted to tone down Beatrice's strength and independence to counterbalance the weakness of her male counterpart, Natalie Radley had taken full advantage of those character traits. It was a pleasurable sight.

Eventually the play ended. The house lights came up, signaling to the theatergoers that it was indeed time to leave and not merely a second intermission, as it seemed some of the still-seated young men in the first few rows might be hoping.

Severus Snape collected his program and abandoned his plush red velvet seat for a private stall in the men's bathroom, from which he would Apparate back to the Malfoy estate. It had been a most satisfactory evening.

The woman who left Natalie Radley's dressing room was not the same one who had entered following the show's end half an hour earlier.

Though attractive, with a small, slim frame, dark auburn hair and brown eyes, she slipped easily by the young male admirers crowding the lobby hopefully, their eyes searching the stage doors for the tall, black-haired Natalie Radley. She smiled. The throngs were quite the compliment to the young actress's looks and talent, but it was a compliment she personally enjoyed avoiding.

The streets of London shone in the lamplight from the day's rain, oil mixing with water here and there to coat the hard black tar with an opalescent sheen. Her cross-trainers slapped sharply against the damp pavement. Three more blocks . . . two more blocks . . .

It didn't take long to reach her small London flat. Pulling a long, thin strip of light-colored wood from her bag, she muttered several inaudible words under her breath. The door into the flat swung open with ease.

She slid her birch wand back under the flap of her shoulder bag and hefted it onto the floor, shutting the door behind her as she did so.

"Wotcher, Piper."

She knew a slow, deliberate turn towards the voice coming from her couch would be the most impressive reaction to her surprise visitor, but a sharp, excited intake of breath gave her away. "Dora?"

Her twin sister had barely enough time to wrinkle her nose in distaste before Piper dived onto the couch and pulled her into a lung-collapsing hug. "Tnnks . . ." she protested feebly.

"Still going by that ridiculous nickname?" Piper asked, pulling away before her sister's face turned as blue as her thick azure hair.

"D'you know, not all of us were lucky enough to be named by Dad." Her heart-shaped face split into a spectacular grin. Tonks was much too laid-back to let the bane of her first few years at Hogwarts bother her. She was an independent young woman, a talented Auror, and – if Piper was not much mistaken by her pink cheeks and cheery demeanor – was seeing someone very good for her.

Tired as she was, Piper was pleased to see her sister so happy. It hadn't been seven months ago when she'd beaten down Piper's door in tears, refusing to speak about whatever it was that was troubling her but asking for Piper's help with some superficial facial glamours, as she was having some trouble with her Metamorphmagi skills and Piper had been top of their class in Transfiguration. She had given up fifteen minutes into the impromptu lesson, burst into sobs and Disapparated.

Piper hadn't seen her sister since. Without Tonks, Piper didn't maintain much connection to the Wizarding world. It had been a hard stretch of time since Tonks's last visit. She'd managed, changing herself into new actresses to debut on the London stage, landing well-paying leads and character parts with many of London's major theater companies. But she had missed her only confidant.

It wasn't difficult work, but it left her with a good deal of spare time during the day to wonder about the safety of her sister and their parents. She waited feverishly by the window each Sunday afternoon for her mother's weekly owl. Andromeda Tonks wrote with the refined regularity and precise timing of her background, giving her sheltered daughter news about the each week's events, the state of her father's bald spot, updates on her errant twin, the latest Quidditch scores, and unwillingly, each week's deaths. Piper had almost cried with frustration at the news of Amelia Bones's murder. She had been school friends with one of her deceased granddaughters, killed along with her parents and sisters towards the end of the first war against Voldemort, and Piper had been hoping the sensible, intelligent Amelia would take over as Minister of Magic after Fudge's inevitable sacking.

"It's been a long evening, but I am glad to see you. Mum won't tell me much about what you've been doing lately."

"She's has been rather tight-lipped these past few months. Your play's just finished up tonight, hasn't it? I've been at almost every performance, and y'know, I'm almost relieved . . . that bit in the chapel's hard to watch."

"'Hard to watch?' The critics called it magnificent!" Piper trusted few with the prattle she granted her sister freely, and the loss had worn on her. "Tea?" she asked abruptly.

Tonks shook her head, magnificent azure locks flopping from side to side. "No time for that. Wish I could, sorry."

Piper's brows furrowed. "You aren't staying?"

Her sister grinned. "Neither are you, if you want to know what I've been doing the last two years. To be honest, we've got ourselves into a right bit of trouble."

"What sort of trouble?"

"I'll explain when we get there," Tonks said, standing suddenly and seizing her sister's arm with one hand. "Look, it's about Lord Voldything – y'know, You-Know-Who – you'll want to stand up, you'll probably fall over if you don't. Deep breath. Ready? Go!" she exclaimed, and clenched her sister's arm hard in her hand. A second later, they were in the familiar blackness and pressure that always accompanied Apparation. Piper felt Tonk's hand tighten around her arm further, as if to tell her not to worry, they were almost there.

And then they were. As Tonks's hand loosened around her arm, Piper stumbled forward through the oak front door into a slightly shabby but rather clean foyer, smelling warmly of ginger. Mid-stumble, her foot hit against the foyer's worn multicolored woven rug and tripped inelegantly, landing face-first on the floor.

"And here I was, thinking you were supposed to be the graceful one in the family," Tonks quipped, reaching a hand down to pull her sister from her sprawl. Piper reached her feet just as a woman with brilliant red hair bustled into the foyer, drying her hands on a dish towel.

"Wotcher, Molly!" said Tonks.

"Minerva's in the sitting room, Tonks, she arrived only a few moments before you did." She turned to Piper. "Welcome back to the Burrow, Piper. It's been several years since you were last here, hasn't it?"

Time to apply liberal amounts of social charm. Piper was desperately confused, but she didn't have to give herself away by expressing it. "Not since Bill was last living at home. It's good to see you again, Molly. Smells lovely in here."

"Fleur and I've just made a fresh batch of biscuits this afternoon. There'll be tea and biscuits in the kitchen if you'd like them after Minerva's finished speaking with you."

"Thank you, Molly!" Tonks called over her shoulder as she pulled her sister out of the foyer into the adjacent hallway.

"Who's Fleur?" Piper mouthed to her sister as they skirted the wooden floors. Tonks shook her head, stopping in the doorway of the Weasleys' sitting room. Several couches and overstuffed chairs crowded the room, seating space enough for all of the Weasleys and the streams of guests that frequently passed through the Burrow.

There, seated on a threadbare striped couch and sipping tea from a chipped china cup, was Professor Minerva McGonagall.

"Miss Tonks, pleased you could join us," she said warmly. "Still as proficient as ever, no doubt?"

"Wotcher, Professor," said Tonks, plopping down into the loveseat across from McGonagall.

"Good to see you again, Professor," added Piper as she sat next to her sister.

"I apologize for the suddenness of this summons, as I am certain your sister has treated this matter with the utmost secrecy –" she paused to give Tonks a piercing look. Tonks immediately became very interested with a fleck of dust on the end of her wand.

"I assure you, Professor, I'm completely unaware as to why I'm here," Piper cut in.

McGonagall nodded in satisfaction before taking a deep breath, examining the patterns on her china cup thoroughly before meeting Piper's gaze again.

"Before his passing, Albus Dumbledore headed a group dedicated to the defeat of You-Know-Who and his followers – the Order of the Phoenix. The Order was one of the main opposing forces during You-Know-Who's first attempted ascent to power, and was reinstated after Harry Potter confirmed his return to full power and capabilities two years ago. Your sister is a member of the Order, as am I, and almost all of-age members of the Weasley family."

Piper shot a sidelong glance at her sister, who had once again become very interested in something outside the conversation – this time a small thread which had escaped from the weave of her jeans.

"Recently, the Order was able to apprehend one of You Know Who's most destructive associates, a Death Eater by the name of Bellatrix Lestrange. She is currently being held at the Order's headquarters."

McGonagall took another sip of her tea. Her hard eyes suddenly shifted to gently inquisitive. "Miss Tonks, how well did you know your aunt?"

"Personally, not at all," Piper admitted. "My mum's side of the family was horrified at her marriage to a Muggle-born and refused to attend the wedding or acknowledge the children that resulted. But Mum would tell these stories . . . Aunt Bella was very lovely, and extremely dangerous. I think Mum was probably relieved she hadn't wanted to be involved with us."

The professor fixed her with a gentle gaze that was nevertheless firm. "Given a reasonable amount of time with Bellatrix Lestrange – your sister has informed me that you are an accomplished Occlumens – to observe her mannerisms and learn her history, could you impersonate her successfully to her closest friends over an extended period of time?"

"Yes." Piper had no doubts. With her talents and her training, she'd be disappointed in herself if she couldn't.

"Then I suppose this brings us to the immediate reason for your visit." McGonagall exchanged an apprehensive glance with Tonks before continuing. "The Order plans to send a member disguised as Bellatrix into the ranks of the Death Eaters as a spy for the order, to obtain information which should be invaluable in combating You-Know-Who.

"As any other Order member would have to use the Polyjuice Potion to take on Bellatrix Lestrange's appearance – a distinct liability, as the drinker would have to keep a supply on hand and the presence of the potion may be noticed – your sister would be the best candidate within the Order. However, your chosen career makes you ideal for this assignment."

Piper closed her eyes. "How much time would I be given with Bellatrix Lestrange?"

"Approximately five days, after which we will stage a breakout so you may respond to the first summons of You-Know-Who following your contrived escape."

Her brain was buzzing at the request: an extended period of time under the watchful eye of You-Know-Who, masquerading as one of his most loyal followers. It would be highly dangerous. It was very probable that she'd end up killed if she so much as scratched her nose in an odd way.

An odd feeling of guilt welled in her stomach. Her sister and many of her Hogwarts friends had apparently been working tirelessly to oppose You-Know-Who since his return while she'd remained safely hidden in Muggle London playing pretend. They knew she'd been satisfied to be uninvolved. And now they were offering her a chance to use her skills to help.

It was her own confidence that finally tipped the balance between her knowledge of the risk involved and her conscience. She couldn't be caught. Her acting background and her natural quick thinking was, of course, why she had been singled out, and her competitive spirit was begging to be allowed to grapple with the challenge.

She turned to look at her sister, who was gazing at her placidly. Damn it. Dora had known how she'd answer before she'd recommended her to McGonagall for the mission. Her sister had been right. Any more consideration Piper gave to it was time wasted. She sighed.

"I'll do it. But can you have the breakout plot ready in three days' time? I'll have the character down by then. Longer and I might become sloppy."

McGonagall gave a slightly relieved smile. She exchanged a look with Tonks, who was grinning widely.

"The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London. You may meet with Bellatrix Lestrange tomorrow morning. I believe Remus Lupin will be on hand if you have any trouble. Tonks, you can escort her?" Her sister's blue head bobbed up and down excitedly. "Very well, then." McGonagall stood.

"I may not be seeing you again before you are summoned, Miss Tonks. However, on behalf of the Order, I would like to thank you for the great personal risk you are about to undergo. The information you obtain may be vital to the Order." She suddenly looked very grave and worn. It was clear to Piper how much it pained her to send a student, even one long graduated, into danger. "Please . . . Piper, be careful of yourself."

"I will, Professor."

"I believe Molly's already made beds for both of you upstairs. Unfortunately, I have to return to Hogwarts immediately, so I cannot stay for any of Molly's delicious ginger snaps."

"We'll send you a tin," Tonks said brightly.

"I would greatly appreciate it. Kindly make certain the Messrs. Weasley are kept far from any biscuits you might send."

"Will do, Professor," she chirped reassuringly.

"Excellent," Professor McGonagall replied, straightening her robes. "I look forward to receiving them soon, Tonks. Good night to you both."

"Good night, Professor," Tonks replied.

"Good night," Piper echoed.

She lay very still in the beds Mrs. Weasley had made up for them in the twins' old room that night, working to recollect all the information her mother had unknowingly given her daughters in her old stories about Andromeda's sisters Bellatrix and Narcissa. As her mother told it, Bellatrix had been something of a siren. She had finally wedded the dashing Rodolphus Lestrange when she had finally realized no other man would be able to match her – no other man but You-Know-Who.

Piper finally gave in to sleep as the moon's pale light waned in the sky, content to continue her work the following morning.


End file.
